The robin that wanted a shower

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Our old yard was a shady place, and I became adept at planting things that didn't need much beyond inconsistent mottled light. In stark contrast, the sun beats down on our new property from morning 'til night. This is an absolute joy in terms of what I can plant and what will thrive, but all those hours of unrelenting rays take their toll on both soil and shoot. 

After many hot hours in the front yard yesterday, I pulled the hose over and set about sprinkling everything down, washing away mulch and dust and giving my plant babies a much-needed drink. I arced my arm right to left, left to right, over and over again, noticing the droplets that hung from leaves and those that sparkled like ephemeral diamonds in the air.

A few birds flew by and landed in the crepe myrtle nearest me. They looked hungrily at the wet plume but kept their distance; all except for one, a sweet little robin with trusting eyes. 

Hop, hop, pause. Arc left, arc right. Hop, hop, nearer. A cock of the head, one eye studying me intently.

"Come here, sweet thing. You must be hot. Come have a cool bath. I won't hurt you." I cooed.

Hop, hop, into the spray. 

Y'all, that sweet bird was blissed out, and so was I. It ruffled its feathers, shook its head, danced about in the refreshing mist. Having now held the hose aloft for a fair amount of time, my arm was quivering, but you couldn't have paid me to lower it or release the sprinkler head trigger.

The robin looked at me again before returning to the crepe myrtle and heading on. I smiled and let the hose drop, ready to start cleaning up so I could head in. 

A few minutes later, a little robin with a trusting eye landed on the sidewalk in the same spot as had the first one and looked at me. I'm sure it was the same, returning for a second dip. And so I fired up my hose, flipped the sprinkler head to shower once more, cooed an invitation, and delighted in his jumping in once more.

Food of Life food: kuku, and chicken with rice and apricots

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Circling back to my previous post about the marvelous coincidence in being given two versions of the same cookbook, Food of Life, I wanted to share some photos of the vibrant, flavorful kuku and my second attempted dish, chicken with rice and apricots. 

Both are really delicious, and I'd say my first efforts were resounding successes except that the kuku fell apart (it's supposed to hold firm so that you can slice it, rather like a frittata) and I could not dislodge 75% of the prized, golden shell layer of the rice dish (the tah-dig, a crust that forms as the rice sort of caramelizes in the pot).

So be it. We still enjoyed these meals and in fact have enjoyed them for days as Food of Life's "serves 6" appears to actually mean "serves 6 with ample leftovers." This is all good because we are a leftovers-loving family.

While the colors of the kuku are magnificent, and the zucchini and parsley tasted as bright as they look, you can see that what was supposed to be a slice is little more than a spooned slop atop some crisped pita.

Whatever. It's like when I'm teaching a canning class and we're making anything with strawberries, I always say "Listen, if your jam doesn't set perfectly, just call it sauce and move on. Who's going to be like, 'Strawberry sauce? No good!' Exactly. No one."

So anyway, back to the food. I really liked the kuku and would definitely make it again. It was fresh, light and yet hearty, and healthy.

Two nights later, I ventured into a more time-intensive recipe, the chicken with rice and apricots. I do not mind putting in effort, but I'll tell y'all that this dish takes a long time. Like three hours long. Let's all give it up for Persian mamas and all other cooks who daily craft such layered meals. Mahgah.

First you prepare the chicken by cubing it and cooking it -for nearly an hour!- with onions and turmeric and other lovely things. Meanwhile, you will optimally soak the rice for two hours and also prepare the onion, apricot, date and golden raisin part of the dish. 

The spices are divine: cinnamon, nutmeg, coriander, cumin, saffron, rose water, advieh (a Persian blend of many of the spices I just mentioned plus dried and ground rose petals), and turmeric.  

I would like to take this moment to give a shout-out to turmeric. It makes everything such a smashing shade of orange-yellow and its purported health benefits, including being an effective anti-inflammatory and powerful antioxidant, are fantastic. 

Not only do both dishes make excellent leftovers, the chicken and rice dish actually improves after a day or two! And, I got to use up the bottle of rose water I've had on hand for a while now.